This blog is dedicated to whatever I happen to feel like saying at the time. I am not always right, but I reserve the right to think I am. Everything I say is not going to be absolute truth, as I fall prey to satire, comedy, mayhem and bad reading habits. If you choose to believe what you're told without doing any research, you get what you deserve. If you know the answer better than I, speak up, or forever hold your, well, you know...

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

The Thing Of It; more verse from Lord David

The thing of it is
that we live in a world
beyond The World,
where esthetic & dreams call
our slow voluptuous dance.
Until some shining isle
of golden sun & velvet night
of azure & deep pearly green
steals us away like gypsies do
to learn the games & wonders
of it’s secret carnivals,
we must sneak down from
our impossible tower keep
to grind the lower machines
amongst plug-in characters,
dispensed with at birth
by the sum of future possessions,
hungry with the need of sensation,
like empty liquor bottles
tossed down by the gods
in some cruel drunken joke.
Here we are grotesquely
lapped & bitten & kissed
as if to numb the past & future.
Hold Beauty’s head high
& walk bold, my young love.
Swing it high by the hair,
fresh & bloody & spattering
the ground where you shall walk.
Blind the eyes of deceitful
merchants of the soul
with the delicious swing
of your fine hips,
a Warriors Blade hidden
behind your back,
in your left hand only
so that it will be close
& fast to jump & dance
to the flaming of your heart.
Like the Hashisheen, are we,
who wander down from Paradise
to briefly do your bidding in The World,
and return to our secret places.
We will always find our way back
to our slow voluptuous dance,
to esthetic & dreams,
& take no quarter
on the way.

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I have set up this blog site largely because I don't want anyone else to be held responsible for the entirety of my ranting, thoughtfulness, ego mania, raging dispair or uncontrolable delight. Ad Nauseum.

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About Me

Lord David was born feet first with teeth, stolen by Gypsies & raised by Pirates.
After being captured by The Evil One during the War with the Giant Rats of Sumatra, Lord David escaped by drawing a window seat third class bus ticket to Cleveland on a cereal box top, and jumped ship in New Orleans.
Scoundrel, artist, bartender, hot shot guitar player, ex-punk & rock singer, late night pub philosopher, general layabout & vagabond, he can be found doing whatever pays or entertains. He is also the founder & host of the Skull Club.